Apologies to Robert Herrick for rearranging a few words in his rhapsodic Elizabethan poem about fleeting youth, but today floral enthusiasts champion roses and other flowers for their gustatory attributes.

Rose petals make a heavenly sauce to spoon over quail, a handful of lavender flowers will intensify sorbet, fruit salad and lamb stew, and a freshly picked squash blossom sliced into a chiffonade and arranged atop Oaxaca cheese will stun quesadilla aficionados everywhere. Now that’s something to wax rhapsodic about.

Poets have been adorning their poetry with flowers for centuries, and cookbooks dating back to 1586, with such quaint titles as “The Whole Book of Cookery Dissected,” told Elizabethan housewives how to properly marinate, chop and sauté a marigold.

In the romantic era of Shakespeare, Marlowe and Herrick, citizens stocked their larders with nasturtium, marigold and day-lily blossoms alongside the sacks of hulled wheat and dried limas. Elizabethan ladies had trouble keeping a well-turned calf with their intake of carnation cordials and cupcakes; Dutch farmers mixed golden marigolds into cheeses to glean their glorious color, and disciples of Confucius celebrated victories over steaming bowls of chrysanthemum soup.

Elderflower clusters or squash blossoms can be fried in batter to become fritters, and gladiola flowers can be stuffed with egg salad or vegetable dips. Even pesky dandelions can be sautéed, until their buds literally bloom in your skillet, and served as a vegetable; they also are highly prized as a delicate French salad. (When using fresh flowers, make sure they have not been treated with pesticides. Buy organically grown flowers and plants or grow your own from seeds.)

John Medall of The Patio on Lamont Street appreciates edible orchids because they not only make a beautiful presentation, they also take on whatever flavor you give them. In the spring he goes to Suzie’s Farm to find edible flowers such as marigolds, nasturtiums and pansies which he tosses with fresh, fragrant microgreens. He likes stuffing squash blossoms with scallop or salmon mousse and sauteing them. He combines bitter red rose petals with red cactus fruit, chestnuts and honey for a colorful but delicate sauce to spoon over quail.

At Saltbox Dining & Drinking executive chef Simon Dolinky is passionate about building dishes around his favorite edible flowers, but he’s more interested in the heat and spice of the modest mustard flower than the beauty and fragrance of a perfect red rose.

“It blows my mind; one taste of this tiny yellow flower and it blows up in my mouth,” says Dolinky. “It’s not just spicy, it’s delicate, so I can put it in a dish and use it on top as a garnish.”

When the creative chef first started seeing a plethora of packaged and bouqueted, pesticide-free flowers showing up in farmers markets and specialty stores, compliments of one of his favorite purveyors, Chino Farms, he was puzzled. “I’m not sprinkling flowers on my plate,” he decried. “I cook for taste, not decoration. Everything on the plate has to have a purpose.” And that’s when he discovered herb flowers.